Home
by Crush-Chan17
Summary: She's never questioned why he sometimes shows up late on her doorstep, sometimes drunk, other times sober, but lost. But she does know that she'll always let him in, as she has always waited for him. Roy x Riza.


_**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist (obviously, I wouldn't be on here now, would I?) nor the cover photo for this story. All rights go to their respective owners!**_

_**Pair: Roy/Riza**_

_**Rating: T to be on the safe side. **_

_**Time frame: a few years post the events of FMA: Brotherhood. **_

* * *

_"Home isn't a place for her, no, home is when she looks in** his** eyes and **s**e**e**s a **f**u**t**u**r**e**.**"_

* * *

_**R**_iza Hawkeye doesn't know when something inside of her changed. But she does acknowledge that it _did_.

It had been when she was in her apartment one night, washing a particular glass that she gotten years ago, the images staining its surface long since faded, her thoughts distant, wine-hued irises glazed over with emotion she didn't mind to show in her own home, alone, when she heard a gentle rapping from the living room. She knew who it was immediately, because only one person would dare bother her so late at night.

And in that moment, her heart seemed to picked up pace, a feeling akin to soaring, flooding her head, and she _knew_. Something had changed - and that change is something that she's no longer going to ignore, but embrace, even if she has to keep it to herself.

Riza Hawkeye is in love with Roy Mustang. You know? Head-over-heels, blush like an idiot, smile when alone, zone out when at work, type of love? Yes, she has it that bad and she's not ashamed to admit it - at least mentally.

Perhaps, a part of herself has always known, but been too damn stubborn to admit it. After all, another man has never even crossed her mind. Yes, she's had her fair share of dates, but they always seem to get scared after realizing just how well she can handle a gun.

_It's just_ - she glances down at her preoccupied couch where a familiar tuft of onyx hair is visible -_ it's always been **you**_. Roy Mustang.

Riza feels a small smile tug at the corner of her lips at the thought, no longer ashamed to feel what she does, and reaches down to tug at the blanket that's pooled at his ankles and cover him properly. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps.

She pulls away and turns on her heels with the intentions of going to her own bed.

When she wakens the next day, he's already left, blanket folded on the back of the couch.

She sighs, having anticipated as much. Every time he comes over he always leaves before the crack of dawn and they never speak of the incident at work. It's almost as if it never even happened.

But that's okay.

They've always had an . . . unconventional routine. They've always been too close - not that she regrets it. But it's always worked for them. Why would she change a perfect formula? Fix something that's not even broken to begin with?

Besides, he deserves someone better.

* * *

Three days pass before Roy shows up on her doorstep again. This time he's completely sober and wearing casual clothes.

She blinks, surprised, and turns her gaze on a nearby clock - 6:31pm. It's not like him to show up so early, but she's not complaining. "Come in," she says, stepping aside to allow him access into her home. He doesn't hesitate and removes his coat, hanging it up on a nearby coatrack. "Is there something wrong, Brigadier?"

He sighs, an amused expression in-tact. "Please," he says, "how many times do I have to remind you to drop formalities when we're in private?"

She feels a smile slip onto her face and her heart flutter. If she weren't such a composed person, she's certain she would have been blushing by now. "Roy." The word rolls off her tongue easy enough and she finds she likes the sound much better.

"Much better." Roy trills, shutting the door. They proceed to the sofa and take a seat.

"Is this just a friendly visit?" she inquires, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"You can say that." he agrees with a nod. Riza raises her eyebrows, skeptical, her fingers itching to wrap around the pistol strapped to her side.

"Let me guess, you were called back to the office for additional work but decided to skip out?"

Roy chuckles and shakes his head. "No, no, I just wanted to see you."

Riza feels hot blood flare in her chest and wrap around her neck, trying its best to spread into her cheeks, but she manages to turn away and get to her feet before it does so, her back to him. "Do want some coffee?"

"Sure. I'll help -"

"That won't be necessary, Roy," she interjects, heading for the kitchen. She refuses to let him see her flustered over a silly sentient.

After a night of talking, sometimes laughing, sometimes teasing, Roy ended up taking residence on her sofa once again. She doesn't mind and covers him up with a blanket as she always does, a smile lingering on her lips as she stares down at his peaceful face with longing.

It's hard, seeing him so vulnerable, so comfortable in her presence, but she bears it and resists the temptation to press her lips against his forehead, and retires to her own room for the night.

* * *

Four months pass and the routine persists.

At least three times a week does Roy Mustang crash on her couch. She's come to expect it, and she never turns him away, even when she's feeling ill. Actually, especially when she's feeling ill. He takes care of her, making sure she's fed and that she's getting plenty of water. It's hilarious, really, but she loves every minute of it.

Sometimes they go out to eat or just to take a walk around Central. Winter is nearing, thus many have already begun to decorate the outside of their homes for the holiday seasons. Even small and large businesses have hung strings of multi-color lights hanging out for all to see - and a sight it is.

Tonight just so happens to be one of those nights actually.

They're making a trip around Central, the air bitter, but Riza doesn't mind, Roy's warmth seems to radiate from him like a hot fire, and it's enough to keep her from chilling. They're both clad in heavy coats, and she's even opted to wear her long, blonde hair down to keep her ears warm. Tiny lights dance across the pavement, illuminating it in various shades of gold, ruby, emerald, and sapphire.

She's snapped out of her reverie when she feels a slight nudge against her side. She blinks and glances down at the arm held out for her. Perplexed, she says, "Brigadier?"

"You look cold, Colonel."

She isn't, not really, anyways. But she allows herself a moment of weakness and wraps her arms around his, resulting in her walking at a much closer proximity than before. She doesn't mind, and he doesn't seem to either, which boosts her confidence and in turn, causes her to relax against him, enjoying his company.

She's thankful that her cheeks are already red from the cold. He would have teased her if he caught her blushing, no doubt.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Riza glances up from a book she's reading, her eyes landing on the face of none other than Roy Mustang. She frowns. "Do I have to answer that?"

The thirty-three-year-old smirks and leans against the door frame of her bedroom, crossing his arms, his dark gaze meeting hers. "I guess not," he says and moves to approach her, "I was wondering if you would be willing to do me a favor?"

She raises her eyebrows. She can't decide whether or not to be baffled or hurt that he felt the need to ask. "What is it?"

"The annual ball is two months from today."

The woman snaps her book shut, interested. Is he going to ask her? The thought causes her heart to stop beating yet speed up at the same time. _How the hell is that even possible?_ "And?"

"I was wondering if you would help me pick out a suitable date."

Instant mood-killer. She scowls, not even caring that he sees. "I'm sorry, but I must decline," she says calmly, "I refuse to be the cause of a fellow woman falling into the lethal trap known as 'Roy Mustang'."

Her long time friend looks deflated a moment before he straightens his spine and runs a hand through his lustrous black tresses. "That was harsh, Hawkeye. It felt like you shot me with one of your best rifles. Right. Here." He motions towards his chest, eliciting an eye roll from the woman occupying the room.

"To be successful in a male dominant world, a woman has to be quick with both her pistol and her words."

"I see you've mastered both," he praises, walking closer and only stopping once he's two feet away from her. He peers down at her in her chair. "But it was just a joke, Colonel, you see . . ." He steps back and offers his hand. She doesn't hesitate to take it, allowing him to pull her to her feet and closer to him, their hands still joined, while his other soon finds purchase upon the small of her back.

Riza melts into Roy's embrace, her eyes locked with his, and her brain trying to process_ just what the hell is going on_, when he guides her to the foot of her bed and dips her down, their faces mere inches apart. She attempts to say something witty, anything to end her torment, but Roy beats her to the punch.

"I've already found the perfect date."

"Have you?" she asks, breathlessly. The left corner of his lips pulls to the side, forming an irresistible half-smile.

"IF she'll have me as hers, that is."

Her cheeks warm up. "You didn't even have to ask."

* * *

It was supposed to be a lot easier than this, a normal chase gone wrong.

She runs down the street, pistol in hand, chasing a man clad in a cloak. She hears Mustang call her back, but she doesn't halt, _no_, that man - _that monster_, had tried to kill him. An assassination attempt on the man that has played a large role in aiding Amestris in achieving a better future. A man like that deserves no mercy, and she refuses to show him as such.

Rain continues to pelt the roads and sidewalks, making the pavement slick as ice in her boots, but she doesn't pay any mind. All she is concerned with is bringing that piece of scum down.

"COLONEL! STOP! _NOW!"_ Mustang's voice calls, followed by the sound of his heavy footfalls, but she blocks it out. She has to for him. Doesn't he understand that? _Doesn't_ he understand that he's _useless_ in this rain? That she has to protect him at all cost, no matter the consequences to herself? _Apparently not_, stubborn mule.

She rounds a corner and then comes to a stop, her gun raised at the man, the only audible sound is the throbbing in her ears. He's stopped running and turns towards her, lowering his hood to reveal a scarred and disfigured visage, all intensified by the smoldering expression in the depths of his crimson irises. "Raise your hands and get down on the ground!"

He doesn't move.

"I'll give you one more chance: _raise your hands and get down on the ground_!" she seethes, eyes narrowing. He seemingly hesitates then moves his hands, only to make a grab for something in his pocket. Riza doesn't hesitate and shoots him right between the eyes, but not before he throws a dagger that penetrates her thigh. She cries out in pain and crouches down, one hand flying to her leg, while keeping her eyes trained on the monster as he drops dead.

The moment she sees him slump to the pavement, her mind is put at ease. _Finally._

"Colonel?!" Roy calls, coming around the corner and pausing when he sees her. She removes the dagger from her leg with a wince and discards it on the ground, turning towards her superior officer afterwards. He notices the blood and rushes to her side, grabbing her shoulders. "Why did you disobey my orders, Colonel?!" he demands, voice almost desperate as one of his hands goes down to access her injury.

Riza swats his appendage away and stares him in the eye. "You're safe, now, sir."

Roy contemplates her words for a moment, his eyes conveying how upset he truly is with her for risking her life, but says, "Let's get you to a hospital."

Once there, he paces about her room like an angry mother hen, lecturing her about how she should always listen to his commands no matter what. She rolls her eyes at his melodramatic display and gets out of the hospital bed she's been temporarily assigned. "Sir, calm down. A few stitches isn't going to kill me."

Roy's eyes meet her amused ones and he swallows. "I'm aware of that, Colonel. But you _could have_ been killed - and all because you disobeyed my direct orders. You have an obligation to listen to what I tell you."

Riza sighs. Ever since the homunculus incident, when her throat had been slit and she nearly died, he has a tendency to go absolutely berserk when her safety is compromised. Not that she can say too much, she's always been a little too overprotective of him.

"Just . . ." Roy trails off, gaining her attention once more. What's he going on about, now? He approaches her, seemingly has an internal battle with himself, and then pulls her into an embrace, burying her face in his chest, the scent of rain and his cologne mixing pleasantly in her nostrils. "I can't afford to lose you, Riza."

She feels the corners of her lips pull up to form a smile. _God_, does this man overwhelm all her senses, his touch leaving a trail of fire on her skin. _I love you, you stubborn mule_.

* * *

That night, Roy stays with her at her apartment.

He doesn't go to sleep when she does, though. Instead, he caters to her every need, even after she insisted that she was capable of taking care of herself, and waits until she's in her own bed before going to the couch.

She doesn't resist the lightness she feels in her head and falls asleep with ease, a broad smile that she doesn't even notice on her lips.

* * *

The annual ball in Central did not become a tradition until after the defeat of Father and his homunculi. It's a large celebration that the new Fuhrer created for the men and women that fought diligently in the fight for a brighter future and has become a looked-forward-to event in the past two years.

Riza and Roy have decided to meet up at Central Headquarters, where the dance actually occurs, instead of him picking her up as the traffic is always bad the night of the ball. She doesn't mind one bit, she's still lethal in a dress and high-heels, after all. She smirks and pats her right thigh where her trusty pistol is secure. She can take care of herself.

She then approaches a nearby mirror and takes in her appearance, pleased as she can be.

Her lean figure is clad in a cherry hued, lace dress that has a heart-shaped bust and hugs her curves all the way down to her knee before flaring out slightly. Her long, blond hair, which has been left down, has been curled loosely over her left shoulder, all held in place by a diamond clip on the right side of her head. As for makeup she has applied a sheer amount of foundation, mascara, and matching red lipstick.

She glances over at the clock on the wall. _It's time to go_.

When she gets to HQ, she finds herself nervous. Her fellow soldiers keep shooting her odd glances every so often and she's become uncomfortable. She knows she's being ridiculous, but she's worried that Roy won't find her as attractive as many of the other women.

_Suck it up_, Riza, she scolds herself mentally, sucking in a deep breath and putting her usual calm façade in place, before stepping inside the large building.

It doesn't take her long to reach a wide, open room where the ball is always hosted, and takes a seat at an empty table. She immediately orders herself a bottle of champagne and waits patiently for Roy to seek her out, which he will.

When he does, she smiles at him, not missing the genuinely surprised look on his face at her appearance. She smiles. "Are you going to keep staring at me like that or are you going to ask me to dance, Brigadier?"

"O-Of course, Colonel," he says, holding a hand out to her. Her smile broadens and she accepts his invitation. "You look beautiful." he says as he pulls her to the dimly lit dance floor, a slow song playing.

"Thank you," she replies, taking in his own appearance: a nice fitted tux, classic in color, and compliments him well. She glances up into his eyes as his arm circles around her waist while the other keeps her hand. "You don't look too shabby yourself, if I must say."

They relax against one another, and she lets him take the lead, as she usually does, and allows him to guide her across the floor, their eyes never leaving one another. She's certain that if he weren't holding onto her, her knees would have given and she would become nothing but goo on the floor. But his grasp stays steady and his body supportive.

They sway and spin to the beat of the music, and in that moment, Riza doesn't think she's ever been happier. This is what she wants - him and her - forever, smiling and joyous, their worries forgotten.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, her head head lulling against Roy's shoulder. He smells warm, almost like cinnamon, yet more masculine, like a flame.

He's truly taken her breath away.

* * *

Two months has passed since the night of the ball and things in Central have settled down. Work picked back up and increased by tenfold. Which was fine with Riza, because Roy hasn't come back to her apartment to occupy her couch since that night. And honestly, she misses letting him in, talking, joking as friends, not subordinate and superior, and most of all?

She misses pulling a blanket over him and allowing herself a moment to take in the peaceful expression on his face as he sleeps.

Currently she sits on her couch, ruby gaze lingering on a window to the left of the sole dresser in her room. Just outside she can make out gleaming lights, muffled by rain and dark clouds that hang high above in the sky. She closes her eyes and turns away while retying the thin silk tie that holds her night robe together just a little more taut.

Roy hasn't changed his behavior towards her at work, nor does he openly avoid her, so why has he suddenly stopped showing up at her apartment? Then again, before, she knew he was coming over because he was running from something that was bothering him. Perhaps . . . it has been cleared up now and he no longer needs the comfort of her presence.

It hurts her more than she's willing to admit . . .

"Roy . . ." she murmurs and lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, then heads towards the bathroom to shower.

She reemerges from the bathroom roughly twenty-five minutes later, a towel so tight it's the equivalent of a second skin wrapped around her, leaving little room to the imagination, her long, blonde hair like wet waves down to the middle of her back. She sighs with relief and starts back for the bedroom to change when she hears something.

Her eyes widen and she whips around, one hand keeping her towel in place while the other is held out in front of her for self-defense - only to see a red-faced Roy Mustang standing before her, her spare key dangling from the forefinger and thumb of his left hand. "Roy . . ?"

She cannot describe the relief she feels upon recognizing him and relaxes, until she catches the dumbfounded look on his face. She narrows her eyes. Why is - she pauses to look where is he, which just so happens to be her body and scowls - _oh_. "PERVERT!"

Ten minutes pass and the duo find themselves occupying Riza's sofa, both drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate. Riza, now clothed, glances up at her superior officer with a fond gaze. "What are you doing over so late, sir?"

Roy takes a sip of his hot chocolate and then puts the cup down on a nearby coaster. He takes a deep breath. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you . . ." he says, a pained look in his eyes. It causes her chest to tighten. She hates seeing him upset.

"You can tell me anything." she assures him with a smile that she keeps reserved for his eyes only. He returns the gesture weakly.

"I've been avoiding you since the ball and I want to apologize, you didn't deserve that."

So, he had been ignoring her. She internally frowns while keeping a calm expression externally. "It's fine. Just tell me what's bothering you."

"I . . . I don't want to live my life with regrets," he begins, refusing to look her in the eye, "I know it's too late, because I already have so much to regret, yet so much to embrace." His hands begin to tremble on his knees. "My life is riddled with mistakes, wrong decisions, left turns -"

"None of that is true -"

"Please, let me finish," he interjects, giving her a stern look, resting a hand on her shoulder. Riza swallows her words and lets him go on. "There are things I am proud of, and things that I don't want to let go of. I don't want to live in a future, wondering 'what if', and 'why'. I'm ready for a change, something that may seem selfish - and I've pondered it for a long time - but is actually selfless."

"I don't understand." Riza admits.

"That's okay," he says, moving his hands to embrace hers. "I don't know when I noticed the changes. But_ something_ inside of me changed - and I like it. I think I noticed a long time ago, but I was too damn stubborn to admit what_ it_ was. But I figured it out two months ago when I was holding you in my arms, dancing, not a care in the world except for you and me. I didn't want the moment to end."

She blushes. "S-sir . . ."

"When I realized what_ it_ is, I became confused. That's why I stopped spending so much time with you, but in that time apart, I realized something: that my life is dull without you in it - and that the reason I've not settled down yet, despite the numerous dates I've been on, is because my eyes were already set on someone - _on you._" He peers into her eyes, allowing his walls to drop and his emotions to be on full display for her. "I've loved you for a long time."

"I . . ." Her lips form a smile. There's no point in denying what she's been feeling for so long. Not when he's taken the initiative and braved the first step. She takes a deep breath and allows her own walls to come crashing down. "I feel the same exact way."

Roy smirks and leans forward until their bangs mingle and their foreheads are pressed together, gazes locked. "I really want to kiss you right now, Colonel."

Riza mimics the smirk he's wearing, the gap between their lips diminishing. She's wanted this for so long and she's been patient. It feels almost surreal that it is even happening - and all she can think is that she better not be dreaming this time. "Is that a command, Brigadier?"

One of his hands burrows itself in her hair, a dangerous expression flashing within the depths of his opal irises that sends shivers down her spine. Then, he asks, in a voice as smooth as silk: "Why don't you find out?"

**_END_**

* * *

**_My first Fullmetal Alchemist story, COMPLETE._**

**_I know, it's a little on the short side - and kind of ends awkwardly (it wasn't meant to be too stretched out). It was mainly just practice for writing one-shots and to help get my creative juices flowing again. But I really did enjoy writing this - even if Riza and Roy seem a little OOC to me. But I figured if Riza were to be in love with Roy (which I think she is) and vice-versa, then she would wait for HIM to make the first move before revealing her own feelings. She wouldn't be willing to compromise their relationship for anything, even at the expense of her own feelings. _**

**_BUT if Roy ever were to confess to Riza, I don't think she'd hesitate or argue with him about it if she felt the same, hence the reason why she straight up told him she felt the same way. She's too serious a character in my opinion to do otherwise._**

**_Anyways, please tell me your thoughts!_**


End file.
